I'm a 41-year-old, civic-minded, well-respected father of three bright children who's blissfully married to a beautiful wife, living in an upscale Orange County neighborhood, and making $185,000 per year at a job I love. I am healthy. I am happy. And for the past 20 years, I've smoked marijuana. So why am I writing to you? I'm seriously pissed. Today, one of my daughters came home from high school dejected because a friend of hers—a neighbor and one of the school's best students—had just been expelled. Why? He was guilty of doing what I'm doing right now: he was smoking marijuana. The expelled student—let's call him Bill—was in his home relaxing with a joint. His neighbor—a born-again self-righteous cunt who just happened to be peering through Bill's window—spotted him and reported his activities to the police. Bill was smart enough to flush it. But the cunt didn't stop there. She reported the incident to his principal. The next day, Bill was expelled from school. Here's the cherry on top: Bill, a senior, had been accepted to a prestigious university. When his high school counselors were informed about his marijuana use, they made sure that the university's officials learned, too. Guess what? The university withdrew Bill's acceptance. I went over to Bill's to be sure everything was okay with him. It was. He took responsibility. He said he should have kept the curtains closed. We figured that if anyone lost out, it was the university that denied his acceptance. Bill's a smart guy. He'll find another place to study, graduate with honors, get a high-paying creative job, have a wonderful marriage, raise beautiful children and enjoy his life. In the meantime, that self-righteous cunt will rot in her own private hell. But that's not what I told my daughter. When the opportunity presents itself, we can mess with Bill's neighbor, I said. "You know, what they say is true," we'll tell her. "Many people who smoke marijuana move on to harder things. Graduate school, for example."